


A Different Time

by thepoisonpills



Category: Black Mirror (TV), Green Day, My Chemical Romance, Paramore, The Used
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Gerard Way, Bert is Not A Villain he's just vibing in the afterlife, Bisexual Male Character, Ficlet, First Meetings, Fluff, Frank is dead but like dw about it I promise, Meet-Cute, Multi, Pansexual Character, Punk Frank Iero, Ray Toro the friendly afterlife bartender, Science Fiction, Time Travel, Virtual Reality, people die but like it's okay, this isn't a tragedy!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25958536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepoisonpills/pseuds/thepoisonpills
Summary: The year is 2056. Lindsey Way has been dead for 4 years and her widower, Gerard, doesn't have much longer. In 2049, a big-time business developed the technology to upload a human consciousness into a virtual universe, where they can reside - fully conscious - past their physical deaths. There's nothing Frank Iero loves more than visiting every time setting he can, as within this universe, users can travel freely within the past two centuries.When Gerard meets Frank in 1987, finding him again through a span of 200 years proves to be a little tough.Because every Friday night, Frank is in the same place - but in a different time.
Relationships: Bert McCracken/Gerard Way friendship, Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Past Lindsey Ballato/Gerard Way
Comments: 24
Kudos: 19





	1. 2052 (prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by Black Mirror season 3 ep 4 San Junipero! 
> 
> Please keep in mind that all my works are 100% fictional and I do not wish the deaths of any of these people! 
> 
> This is just a little ficlet I'm working on while I wrap up [Bad Romance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25136302) and do research for my next big fic!
> 
> Thank you to the lovely [dangsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangsu) for beta-ing. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Be fabulous,  
> \- Venom  
> Tumblr: [thepoisonpills](https://thepoisonpills.tumblr.com/)

Some truths are universally known yet remain unspoken. Like an elephant chained to those who know it, following them around wherever they go. 

The fact Lindsey Way was dying was such a truth.

Although her long-time husband Gerard knew this truth, he refused to speak it aloud. After all, what good did it do anyone? _"Hey, my wife is dying. How are you doing?"_ just didn't sound right. Besides, if he was already aware of such a fact - which Gerard very much was - what was the purpose of saying it? He knew. Lindsey knew. The doctors and nurses certainly knew. That seemed like more than enough. 

However, that particular spring morning was different. 

It was different because someone spoke the unspoken truth. 

"Gee, baby," Lindsey called out for Gerard, who was eating a late breakfast at the small circular hospital room table when he heard his name. "Come here," she said softly.

The man instantly dropped his cutlery and stood up, taking a seat on the lounge chair drawn closer to the bed. He took hold of Lindsey’s fragile hand and gazed into her glassy eyes, which always appeared to look past those it fixed on. "What is it?" he asked, matching her soft tone.

She smiled fondly before answering. "It's time."

Gerard frowned, mildly perplexed by her statement. "Do you want your lunch now?" It was only eleven, which was a little early for lunch - especially since the aggressive chemo often left Lindsey with no appetite and she'd had a relatively impressive breakfast not too many hours prior.

"No," she shook her head weakly. "It's time for me to go," she stated calmly - gentle yet certain. 

"Oh," Gerard quickly blinked away the tears that threatened to appear on his face, "are you… are you getting uploaded?"

She shook her head again, "No, baby." A heavy pause settled in before she added, "It's time for me to go for real."

Gerard shook his head right back at her, but instead of mimicking Lindsey's relaxed certainty, his face screamed out panicked denial. The skin on his ears was starting to burn hot. "Why?" 

"Because I know it's time," she whispered, almost as if attempting to soothe him. "I can feel it. It's going to be okay."

"Why… why won't you let them upload you?" He had started tearing up, his voice cracking as he continued speaking, "You won't be in pain anymore... I can still see you."

"Baby," Lindsey rubbed her thumb over the back of Gerard's hand. "San Junipero isn't _real._ The life we lived, this life we built, _this_ is real."

"But… San Junipero is real _too,_ " he argued. "It'll be me and you. I'll still remember everything when I log out."

"Gerard..." Lindsey shook her head once more, slow and sure. She didn't say it, but the silence between them showed she would not be swayed. Although the woman never mentioned it, the weak beating of her heart showed that it was too late to sign the consent forms now. Consenting to an uploading took upwards of a week; there were necessary psychological evaluations and bureaucratic legal things that Lindsey knew she no longer had the time for.

Sure enough, the next morning, the sun rose without Lindsey Way.


	2. 1987

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"I wanna dance with somebody - with somebody who loves me!" - Whitney Houston, I Wanna Dance With Somebody_

Gerard couldn't believe he actually agreed to try San Junipero.

After Lindsey's passing, he promised himself he wouldn't try it either. After all, if she hadn't had the chance to try what was often called 'The Virtual Paradise,' why should he? 

Yet here he sat - like a hypocrite - his consciousness on the bar of a digital pub made to look and sound like it belonged in the 80s, while his physical body sat in a hospital room somewhere in 2056. Gerard chose the eighties simply because he thought they seemed fun. That week in particular, only 1987 and 1982 were open for that decade - his doctor mentioned something about routine maintenance on the mid-80s going on - and Gerard figured he'd try 1987 as his favorite jam from that decade, Bon Jovi's _You Give Love A Bad Name,_ happened to be released that year. 

Gerard ran his fingers over the wooden rims of the bar, feeling completely and utterly fascinated by just how _real_ everything felt. He'd anticipated that trying San Junipero would feel somewhat like a collective lucid dream with a bunch of strangers. However, it just felt like reality. 

Well, Gerard supposed it was called virtual _reality_ for a reason.

"First timer?" A voice across him suddenly spoke. When Gerard registered that the person must've been talking to him, he tore his eyes away from the bar to face them.

In front of him, on the other side of the bar, stood a tall man with large curly hair and a kind smile. "Yeah," Gerard told the man, still absentmindedly running his fingers over the bar. "How can you tell?"

The man laughed, "The way you're looking at everything. Newcomers always do that."

"I'm just… impressed."

"Yup," he flashed Gerard a wide grin, "that's how it is. Ultra immersive virtual reality. I'm Ray, by the way. Head bartender here at Jupiter's," the man, _Ray,_ extended his hand out to Gerard, offering him a friendly handshake.

Gerard accepted the gesture with a polite smile, "Gerard," he said, introducing himself back to the bartender. 

"Yeah, I know," Ray chuckled. "I can see your user info above your head," he pointed to the space above Gerard's head, but when the other man looked up, he only saw the bar ceiling. When he made a confused noise, Ray clarified, "Only San Junipero employees can see user info."

"Ah," Gerard nodded comprehensively. "What can you see?"

Ray looked at the space above Gerard's head again, this time scanning his eyes left to right as if he was reading, "I can see that your name is Gerard Arthur Way, born on April 9th, 1977, part-time user, and that you're in the 1987 setting. That's it." Ray picked up a wet glass and a washcloth from underneath the bar, drying the glass casually as he spoke, "Anyways, can I get you anything to drink?"

"Just a coke, please." Although Gerard knew the alcohol in San Junipero only affected users because they programmed it to do so and that it wasn't real booze, he didn't want to risk becoming too attached to the feeling of being drunk again. After all, what had gotten him into drinking was the feeling, not the taste. 

The bartender nodded and briefly crouched before producing a can of Coca-Cola, placing it over the counter before grabbing a few ice cubes and tossing them into the glass, then pouring the soda over the ice and sliding it over to Gerard. He grabbed the cup and took a sip of his coke - it tasted exactly like it did in real life. 

Now _that_ was freaky. 

A quick thought occurred to Gerard then. 

"Hey uh..." he briefly paused to remember the bartender's name, "... Ray?"

"Hm?" 

"How many of them," Gerard gestured towards the other people at the bar, which was just over half-full, "are… y'know… _dead?"_

"About eighty-percent of San Juniperians are full-time users," Ray stated calmly, his attention quickly diverting to another customer. 

It was company code that San Junipero employees referred to deceased uploaded minds as "full-time users" rather than "dead people" - some brand bullshit about the software being so immersive that _"It's like you're really alive!"_ or whatever - but Gerard was too cynical to use those terms himself. Besides, "full-time user" was just too wordy for his tastes anyways. 

Suddenly, Gerard felt a coldness on his left knee followed by something pushing harshly on his left shoulder. When he turned to face the cause of the disturbance, he was faced with a dark haired man carrying an empty glass in his hands, the presumed contents of the glass now all over his own shirt. The man was holding on to the backrest of Gerard's bar stool to steady himself with the hand he wasn't using to clutch his glass, and Gerard quickly connected the dots that this man must've tripped and by chance had fallen into his personal bubble.

"Duck!" shouted the mysterious man, in the cadence of someone who was supposed to be cursing. "I'm so sorry!" he apologized to Gerard while grimacing down at his own wet shirt. 

Gerard was a little confused at the man's exclamation. _Duck!_ Had the man spotted a duck at the bar and tripped out of shock? Gerard was almost certain that the establishment had been bird-free when he first entered. Or was the man instructing Gerard to duck? Perhaps he was trying to say "fuck" without swearing? If so, why wasn't he just... swearing? Gerard had a lot of questions about this man he'd known for about four seconds. 

Without having any of those questions answered, Gerard stood up and grabbed a few napkins from the bar to help out this strange man. Although his left knee had gotten some drink on it, the man's shirt had clearly gotten the worst of it. The drink must've been fresh off the bar because his shirt was _soaked._ Gerard avoided ogling the man's nipples through the wet material and instead started dabbing some napkins onto it, hoping to help out this clumsy person. 

The stranger grabbed some napkins from Gerard's hands and began drying his own shirt, muttering a short "Thank you," before getting to work on fixing the accident. Only when the napkins were soaked through did the man finally look up at Gerard for the first time. 

His eyes widened in a flash, fixed on Gerard as the hands working on drying his shirt froze under his neck bone. "My God, you're hot," the man abruptly blurted out, a smile starting to appear on his face as he very obviously checked Gerard out.

Gerard was instantly taken aback by the stranger's sincerity. He froze in place too, uttering an "Uh..." before falling into a stunned silence. It occurred to him that he was meant to _reply_ when people flirted with him, but Gerard really had gotten out of practice with flirting after being married for so long. He wanted to tell the man he was hot as well - because he really was, _wow_ \- but instead, Gerard just looked down at his hands, then back up at the stranger before mumbling, "Napkins?" offering the stranger the remains of the napkins he'd taken from the bar with an awkward smile.

The man grinned widely. "And you're adorable too. Flip."

Was that supposed to be an order? Was he telling Gerard to do a flip? Gerard could not do a frontflip and he definitely could _not_ do a backflip. Surely the man could tell Gerard wasn't very athletic from his build; San Junipero avatars were designed from old photos of users, so although Gerard looked younger, he still looked like _himself._ And he had not been athletic enough to do a flip at any point in his life. 

Luckily for Gerard, the man spoke again before he could embarrass himself any more, "Stay right here, I'll go change my shirt." He placed a bunch of damp napkins onto the bar before dashing towards what seemed to be a bathroom, leaving behind a very confused Gerard. 

"That was Frank," spoke a familiar voice from behind the counter. "If I were you I wouldn't get too attached to him." 

Gerard sat back down on his bar stool and looked at Ray - who was holding an end of a cocktail shaker in each hand - shooting him a curious look. "Huh?"

"He's a jumper," Ray said, clicking his shaker closed before mixing whatever drink was inside. 

"A _jumper?"_ Gerard frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar term.

"Yeah, means he's in a different time setting every week - quite a few people do it. I haven't seen him in the same year two weeks in a row since he became full-time. He's here at Jupiter's every Friday but chances you'll see him again are slim to none," Ray explained.

"I can only see people in the same time setting as me?" Gerard asked before taking a sip of his coke.

The bartender nodded, "Yeah. I can see everyone who's at Jupiter's right now but you can only see those who are with you in '87. So even if both you and Frank are here at the bar, you can only see and communicate with each other if you're in the same time setting."

"Sounds confusing." 

"You'll get used to it," Ray laughed lightheartedly before turning to some empty space by Gerard, nodding like he was listening to someone even though Gerard couldn't see anyone next to him. 

This place was really fucking weird so far. 

It was then that the man - who Gerard now knew as Frank - reappeared, taking a seat by Gerard at the bar like he didn't belong anywhere else. Before Gerard could stop himself, he made a slightly bitter remark to Frank - who was now wearing a new shirt. 

"Oh please, have a seat."

Instead of being offended, Frank seemed to find this remark rather amusing; he stared at Gerard, eyes bright with intrigue, and smiled smugly. "Sorry, only seat available."

That was a blatant lie. The bar wasn't packed at all. Although a few people had shuffled in since Gerard first entered, there were still numerous empty seats at the bar. The only other people sitting at the bar besides Gerard and Frank were three women who appeared to be having a girl's night, completely and utterly unbothered by the two men. Everyone else was either on the dance floor or on a table, hanging out in groups - almost like high school cliques.

"That's not true," Gerard observed intelligently, his coke now forgotten.

Frank didn't seem to care that he was caught in a lie. "Maybe not," he said, still smiling. He then waved his hand, "Ray?"

The man behind the bar walked over to Frank, eyebrows raised. "Yeah?"

"Can I have a drink?"

"Yeah, what can I get you?" Ray asked, tone polite and friendly.

Frank looked up for a few seconds, ultimately deciding to say, "Surprise me," a smug expression still on his face as he made the odd request. He turned to face Gerard once Ray got to making a cocktail, "Can I get you anything to drink, given you're not really enjoying your soda?"

Gerard looked down at his coke right away, remembering that he was meant to be drinking it, and took a large gulp before saying, "I'm good, thanks."

"Alright," Frank laughed. He turned in his stool to fully face Gerard, elbow leaning on the counter casually. "So, tell me, hella old or hella sick?"

"Huh?" Gerard didn't really know what the other man meant with his question.

"I mean, you're not full-time, which means you're still alive out there," Frank reasoned. "So, if you're allowed to try San Junipero, you must be dying of _something._ Tell me then, are you old or sick?"

Gerard chuckled, "You're gonna ask me to tell you about my life without introducing yourself?"

Frank rolled his eyes but did as requested, "I'm Frank, born in '81, dead. Stuck in the virtual afterlife for the foreseeable future. You?"

"Gerard."

"Alright, tell me then, _Gerard_ \- are you old or sick?" 

The snarky way Frank put emphasis on Gerard's name when he said it had him chuckling. He figured the shorter man had earned his answer, "Both. Seventy-eight, stage four."

Frank nodded in understanding, narrowing his eyes briefly before throwing out a guess, "Lung cancer?"

The accurate guess immediately shocked Gerard, "What?! How did you know?" He looked up to see if there was some kind of information about his illness hanging above his head, but once again, Gerard only saw the bar ceiling.

"You talk out of the side of your mouth, like you're used to having a cigarette in there. I took an educated guess based on that," Frank held an indifferent tone, but his face held a pleased expression, like he knew he was clever and enjoyed being right. 

Ray momentarily appeared with a cocktail, sliding it over to the man across Gerard. "Lime daiquiri, hope you like it," he said before tending to another customer.

"I heard you're a jumper," Gerard told Frank whilst he took a few sips of his drink, looking content with the flavor.

Frank shook his head from side to side, "I like to visit new times."

"But not new places?"

"A new time _is_ a new place," Frank affirmed before adding, "at least in here. You meet different kinds of people in every time setting." He took a sip of his daiquiri as he continued, "This is a virtual paradise and you get to go to whatever time you want. The kind of person who chooses to visit, say, the seventies, is much different than the one who chooses the Victorian period."

Gerard supposed the other man was right. "What's your favorite year to visit?" he thought to ask.

Frank thought about it for a few moments before making his choices, "I can't pick between 1925 and 1888. The people you meet in the twenties are so cool. Not like the hippies you meet in the sixties and seventies, not pretentious like the ones you meet in the eighties, but still know how to party and have fun. You meet some really interesting motherduckers in 1888 as well."

"Motherduckers?" Gerard scrunched up his nose, "Why are you talking like a nine-year-old who can't swear?" he laughed, remembering how the man had also done it earlier.

"Oh, this?" Frank signaled towards his mouth and quickly took a bored expression as he explained, "Last week I got into a fight in 1912 and they took away my ability to swear for a month."

Gerard's eyes widened in surprise, "They can do that?! What a weird punishment."

"Well, it was either that or be stuck in 1937 for two weeks. I took my pick," Frank shrugged, taking a sip of his drink before he added offhandedly, "'37 is the flippin' worst."

"Why?" Gerard wondered, "What's in 1937?"

"Aryan Brotherhood meeting."

 _"Seriously?"_ Gerard gasped, feeling shocked that such a thing would be permitted in San Junipero, "That's allowed?!"

"Not officially, but they can't do much if all the racists just happen to show up in the same time and place," Frank reasoned, taking yet another sip of his cocktail. He seemed to really be enjoying the drink, because he was taking regular sips from it and looked pleased with the flavor every time he did so. "You married?" he suddenly changed the subject. 

"Uh, sorta," Gerard scratched his neck nervously. "I was. Wife passed a few years back."

"Is she uploaded?"

"No," he shook his head sadly, "she didn't want to be. Never even went on a trial run when she was sick..."

"I'm so sorry. My wife wasn't uploaded either." It seemed like Frank's wife's death was an older wound than Lindsey's, because his face was solemn, yet he appeared to have long accepted this fact already. "She passed before San Junipero was a thing. Accident."

This meant she must've passed over seven years ago, which Gerard figured was long enough to at least accept the fact. He was still coming to terms with Lindsey's death, which had happened four years prior. Gerard spent his days doing absolutely nothing; everything reminded him of Lindsey somehow. The only thing that got him out of his house once and for all was when he'd started coughing up blood, which led to a very unfortunate visit to the doctor. After that, Gerard was just moved from one tiny room to another - replacing his living room with a clean white hospital room. 

"Why did you decide to get uploaded?"

Frank smiled, not smug but rather kind and genuine. "I wasn't done living yet. There were still things I wanted to do. Are _you_ getting uploaded?"

"I don't know..." Gerard admitted shyly. "How did you even go about deciding something like that?"

"Easy." Frank finished his daiquiri, placing the empty glass on the bar counter. "Are you done living?" 

"My body seems to be," Gerard chuckled breathlessly. "Shouldn't I take that as a sign from the universe that it's time to go?"

"Sign from the universe my ass!" the other man exclaimed. "If you have the power to choose, what difference does it make what the universe wants? What's it gonna do, _kill_ you? You're already dead," he smiled widely at his own sarcastic comment. "The human body and mind often give up on living at different times. If your body gives up before your mind does and you have the choice to keep your mind alive for a little longer, why not take it?"

Frank did have a point. "How many times have you given this speech?"

"Just this once." He bit his lip, "It's not often that I find a cutie I'd deem worthy to drag to the digital afterlife with me, after all."

"You really don't let up," Gerard observed, soda long forgotten now.

"Is there a reason why I would? What do I possibly have to lose, anyways?" Frank grinned, more alive than anyone Gerard knew out in the real world. He extended his open palm to the other man, "Come dance with me."

Gerard was hesitant. Ray's earlier words about never seeing Frank again resonated back to him, but he did figure that was also the beauty of it. If he embarrassed himself, he never had to see the other man again. Frank was a blank slate - like youth.

And maybe Gerard _could_ be young, just for one night.

"You're so… young," he said before he could stop himself.

Frank took Gerard's hand in his own, already getting up off his bar stool. "Aging is a given; growing old is a choice." He turned back to face Gerard, who seemed to be frozen in his seat, "Are you coming? I don't wanna miss this song."

Dancing wasn't Gerard's forte, per se. In that moment he felt shy, ashamed of his own awkwardness. But when he looked up at Frank - so joyful and eager - _glowing_ from the colorful disco lights shining behind him, Gerard was pulled right out of his seat at the bar. He followed Frank to the dance floor, which by now was much fuller than when Gerard had first come in. At first, he stopped right at the edge of the dance floor, but Frank was having none of it. The shorter man pulled Gerard right to the center of it all - simple and unashamed. 

For the first time, Gerard noticed the music playing. 

_Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth? Ooh, heaven is a place on earth!_

How ironic yet simultaneously appropriate. 

The song had the distinct upbeat synth sound most songs from the 80s did, but the combination of the lyrics with Frank's careless attitude gave Gerard a feeling that this must've been special. The moment just didn't feel _real_ \- and the reason why had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the two of them were in a virtual reality. 

It was hot on the dance floor. Someone must've programmed the fuck out of body heat into San Junipero, because Gerard felt like he really was at a college party with a bunch of young adults. He could feel the cloth on his skinny jeans rubbing on his knees as he swayed to the music. He could feel how his hands had gotten slightly sweaty and clammy from both nervousness and excitement. All of these things _should've_ made the moment feel real; and yet, Gerard still felt like there was something so distinctly dream-like about it all.

Frank raised Gerard's arm up and pushed it backwards, indicating he wanted the taller man to twirl. He did so, awkwardly, almost tripping over his own feet before he could meet Frank's eyes again. The two men laughed jovially at Gerard's clumsiness. 

"You have the grace of a newborn giraffe," Frank observed between chuckles. 

"And you, sir," Gerard tried twirling Frank then, who had similar success, "have the grace of a newborn horse."

The shorter man corrected, "I think they're called foals."

"I should've guessed you were raised in a barn," Gerard joked, making Frank laugh along with him.

For the first time in a very long while, Gerard felt _light._ Like maybe, things were easy. Like he wasn't old, wasn't sick, and most importantly - wasn't lonely. This was so new that Gerard almost felt like a child on their first visit to the amusement park - stunned by the wonder of it all. 

They danced for what felt like a million songs and also no songs at all. Every now and then, one of them would accidentally trample the other's foot or be pushed into one another by the movement of the people on the dance floor, slowly being forced closer to the other when they didn't step back to reestablish the distance. Gerard had no idea how much time was passing, and yet he had no room - both physically and mentally - to care.

Suddenly, the lights on the dance floor changed from bright and colorful to a dim single-toned shade - a soft pink now being the only light in the room. Through the relative darkness, Gerard saw Frank grin widely, "I love this song," he said, wrapping both his arms around the taller man's neck with no hesitation. The crowd had slowed its energetic dancing to a gentle sway - it was the romantic song of the night.

Gerard suddenly felt grateful for the rose-colored lighting, as it likely hid the blush on his face from having the handsome man so close to him. Their noses were a few inches apart at most, and although their chests weren't touching, Gerard could feel Frank's body heat radiating onto him. 

"You really don't have any grace..." Frank commented cheekily before he took one of his arms off where it rested on the taller man's neck to grab at one of his hands, placing it on his own waist to show it was okay. Gerard hadn't noticed his arms had been slumped uselessly by his body, but he shyly placed his other hand on the other side of Frank's waist now that he knew it was what he wanted. This seemed to please Frank, because he shot Gerard a tight-lipped smile before his hand went back to where it was previously resting on the back of Gerard's neck.

For the next few seconds, he did nothing but watch Frank's face. The pink lights were the perfect color on him; he would've looked like a statue or a mannequin had his face not been slightly sweaty from the heat on the dance floor. He looked unreal, yet at the same time so vibrantly real that Gerard was almost hypnotized by his features.

How was he supposed to believe this man was dead when he was, in fact, so full of life?

The song suddenly seemed to have decreased in volume, but Gerard could still hear it playing somewhere in the room, only briefly registering it.

_I think we're alone now… there doesn't seem to be anyone around._

It was muffled - like he was in a bathroom in the bar rather than standing in the dead center of the dance floor. Gerard made a brief remark in his head about Frank's face now being only an inch away from his own, but he couldn't bring himself to look or step away. He felt a hand slide up into his hair and he felt himself start to gasp from the sensation, but before he could take the necessary gulp of air, Frank pulled down on Gerard's neck, making their lips connect in a breathtaking kiss that would have made the intake fully redundant.

Fuck.

Now Gerard had to find this man again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Ooh baby, do you know what that's worth? Ooh heaven is a place on earth!" - Belinda Carlisle, Heaven Is A Place On Earth_  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Do you guys like the concept of this fic?? Pls let me know what you think so far!
> 
> Stay fabulous,  
> \- Venom  
> Tumblr: [thepoisonpills](https://thepoisonpills.tumblr.com/)


	3. 1963

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"And Max, the king of all wild things, was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all." - Maurice Sendak, Where The Wild Things Are_

The following Friday, Gerard went to 1963 for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with Frank Iero.

For real!

For reasons rather unknown to him, Gerard had always possessed an odd fascination with former president John F. Kennedy - particularly his untimely death in the year of 1963. Some would argue Gerard’s fascination was more of an obsession, really, although he preferred to use the term “intrigue” upon questioning. Regardless of any sexy - albeit short - men he might have met the previous week, on this particular Friday, Gerard gave himself the liberty of indulging in one of his life’s guiltiest pleasures. 

Okay, _sure,_ Gerard secretly hoped he’d run into Frank by the chance of a cosmic miracle, but he wasn't even remotely relying on that possibility. Maybe he just needed new friends. _Someone who wasn’t a freaking jumper,_ he told himself. 

Yet, once again, like a fucking hypocrite, Gerard had now been sitting at the bar at Jupiter's for about two hours, doing… nothing, really. Gerard was sipping at Coke that had gone both flat and warm by now. Who the fuck had even programmed flat, warm soda into San Junipero? In what version of paradise does soda go flat or warm? San Junipero really was weird as hell. 

And let's not even get started on the music. One thing Gerard had not anticipated about the sixties was just how much he hated the music from that time. He could've _sworn_ that _These Boots Are Made For Walkin'_ had been playing on loop for the past half-hour, even though it'd only been two minutes at best. That song hadn't even been out in 1963 - now that was just half-assed programming from someone up in TCKR Systems. What kind of sixties bar doesn't play The Beatles anyways? 

Gerard was about to consider logging off for the night when Ray showed up in front of him, smiling at Gerard from the other side of the bar.

"Everything good, man?" the bartender asked. "You've been moping for a while."

"I wanna find him again," Gerard whined. "And I hate this music."

Ray chuckled, "Good luck with finding a jumper, dude. And I'm sorry about the music; I can't do anything about it, unfortunately." He pointed at Gerard's glass, "What I _can_ do for you is get you something new to drink, though. You want anything?"

"What do you have that's non-alcoholic?"

"Water, sodas… I can also make you almost any cocktail without the booze too," Ray offered. 

"I'll just have a water, then," Gerard accepted. "With ice."

Ray nodded and reached under the bar to fetch Gerard his water, tossing in some ice cubes from a nearby ice bucket before pouring the fresh water into the glass. He slid it over to Gerard with a kind smile, "Here you go," he said, taking Gerard's old glass of soda and tossing it somewhere under the bar. 

"Ray?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Why can't I just search for another user to find when and where they are? Like a Google search bar for the afterlife?" Gerard asked.

The bartender frowned. “Because a lot of women would get harassed, Mr. Way.”

“Fuck, that’s true,” Gerard quickly realized Ray was correct. “Why do men have to ruin everything?” he mumbled under his breath. 

“How about this,” Ray leaned in closer to Gerard over the bar. He spoke quietly, like he didn’t wish to be heard by anyone else, “See the gentleman on the other side of the bar?” Ray subtly pointed at another man who sure enough, was sitting with a blonde woman a few seats away from Gerard. “That’s Bert. He’s not a jumper. And, he’s a really cool guy. Why don't you go talk to him?” the bartender suggested.

“But he’s with a woman,” Gerard observed intelligently.

“That’s Hayley,” Ray informed. “The two of them are good friends. She’s a really cool girl too. They’re both nice people, I promise you. Just go and say hello.”

“What if they don't like me?”

“Then you know to avoid the sixties. They’re usually here anyways,” Ray shrugged and stood normally again. He grabbed a wet glass from underneath the bar and began drying it with a washcloth. 

Gerard felt hesitant about doing as Ray suggested, “I don't know, man…”

Ray quickly walked over to where Hayley and Bert were sitting, still drying his glass. He gestured to the man down the bar, “Hayley, Bert, have you met Gerard?” The bartender gave the man an apologetic smile before tending to another customer.

“I'm guessing you’re Gerard,” Hayley surmised, flashing him a kind grin. 

Gerard felt his throat go dry but forced himself to answer. "I-I am, yeah," he stuttered. 

"I'm Bert," the man by Hayley said, introducing himself. 

"And I'm Hayley," she quickly added. "Come sit with us," Hayley motioned for Gerard to approach, patting the bar stool next to hers. And by some sort of miracle, Gerard actually managed to do so, slowly getting off his stool and taking a seat by the two friends. "What's got you so sour, sweetie?" Hayley asked once Gerard was settled.

Gerard furrowed his eyebrows, "Huh?" 

"You look like you bit into a lemon, dude," Bert said. "Why are you upset?”

“Oh…” Gerard shook his head meekly, feeling shy about telling them why he felt the way he did.

“Go ahead,” Hayley nodded encouragingly. “Spill it. You can tell us.”

“I, uh…” Gerard trailed off. However, he soon remembered Ray’s words about not only Bert and Hayley being cool people, but also about how he could easily avoid them if the interaction failed. He opted to just blurt out, “I sorta caught feelings for someone.”

“Who?” Bert asked.

“Um…” Gerard mumbled under his breath, “a jumper.”

“Oh, sweetie…” Hayley frowned and put her drink down. “I think you're just gonna have to let it go,” she advised, looking sympathetic.

“Who’s the jumper?” Bert investigated curiously, taking a sip of his margarita like he was enjoying the gossip.

“His name is Frank.”

Both Bert and Hayley perked up at that name. “You mean Frank Iero?” she asked incredulously.

Gerard shrugged, “I don't know his last name, sorry.”

“Short Italian guy?” Hayley described. “Tattoos?” 

“Kind of a smartass?” Bert added.

“Yeah!” Gerard exclaimed. “That’s the one.” He bit his lip in confusion, “You guys know him?”

Hayley and Bert exchanged knowing looks. “Oh,” she laughed, “we know Frank Iero.”

“How…?” Gerard asked hesitantly. 

“Well, being a jumper sorta gives you a reputation already.” Bert explained, “You meet a brand new set of people every Friday night. Lots of people get to know you very quickly.”

“But, I feel like even if he wasn't a jumper, people would know him.” Hayley turned to face Bert as if referencing something he knew and Gerard didn't, “He already gives himself quite the reputation...” she commented through a smile.

“What do you mean?” Gerard wondered out loud, not fully realizing he’d even voiced out his thoughts. However, before his doubts could be answered at all, the conversation topic rapidly changed.

“Are you guys in the mood for some fries?” Bert suddenly asked. “Ariel’s here,” he pointed towards a person absentmindedly cleaning the surface of the bar with a rag.

“I could go for fries. Ariel makes the best ones. Only order the fries at Jupiter's if they're in,” Hayley told Gerard. She raised her hand and gave a short whistle, “Hey Ariel!” 

Their head immediately shot up, scanning the bar for Hayley until their eyes landed on the three of them. The employee, who Gerard assumed was Ariel, shot them a friendly smile as they approached. 

“Hey guys,” Ariel greeted the three of them, appearing to already be familiar with Hayley and Bert. “Who’s the new guy?” they nodded towards Gerard.

“Oh, that's Gerard,” Hayley said. “We just met him tonight.”

Ariel’s eyes seemed to read something above Gerard’s head for a few moments before they mentioned, “Huh, part-time.” 

Gerard only half noticed what the employee was saying. Although he didn't want to admit it, he was one-hundred-percent checking them out. Ariel had short black hair and wore a sleeveless grey vest over a black shirt, a grey tie complimenting their look perfectly. However, in Gerard's eyes, the true cherry on top of the sexy cake was the eyeliner, tattoos, and tasteful piercings. 

What? Gerard had a thing for punks. At least he knew it. 

He only nodded and extended a hand out to them, praying to some god that it wasn't the wrong move. Luckily, it wasn't, and Ariel graciously accepted the handshake, introducing themselves to Gerard, "Hey Gerard, I'm Ariel. I'm a chef here at Jupiter's. Nice jacket," they said, looking down at Gerard's worn leather jacket.

Gerard looked down to check what he was wearing as he'd forgotten, "Oh," he laughed awkwardly. "Nice, uh..." Gerard eyed Ariel's ensemble, attempting to pick out what he liked the most. "Nice… everything, really," he stumbled. Gerard made a brief note about Hayley and Bert watching the interaction, perhaps even chuckling at his untactfulness, but he couldn't really care as he eyed Ariel's face piercings. Honestly, Gerard couldn't tell which he liked most: their ear cartilage piercings, their eyebrow bar, or their lip ring. _Holy shit,_ this was one sexy chef.

"Thanks," Ariel smiled. "Can I get you guys anything?" 

"Can you get us some fries?" Hayley requested.

"Sure," Ariel nodded. "I'll be right back," they said, waving the three friends a polite goodbye before vanishing into what Gerard presumed was a kitchen behind the bar.

"So..." Hayley smiled coyly at Gerard. "Seems like you got over Frank rather quickly over there," she teased.

"What?"

"Dude," Bert laughed, "you were _so_ checking Ariel out!"

"No, I wasn't!" Gerard responded defensively, even though he knew he was lying through his teeth.

"You absolutely were," Bert persisted. "It's okay..." he took a sip of his margarita before admitting, "they _are_ pretty hot.”

Gerard sighed, giving up on hiding his thoughts, “They are, aren’t they?” 

"Also," Hayley momentarily changed the subject to ask Gerard, "you're part-time? You didn't mention that earlier."

"Yeah," he confirmed. "What about you guys?"

"Full-time," Hayley and Bert replied almost in perfect sync. Hayley quickly added, "You're gonna have a hard time finding a full-time jumper if you're only part-time, dude."

Although full-time San Junipero users could jump freely between time periods as they desired, part-time users could only go to one period per session - which they were only allowed one of per week. In spite of the fact part-time users could pick any day a week to have this session, the vast majority of people picked Friday nights. This meant, every week, Gerard had to commit to a single year to try out.

"I know," he sighed. "If I were full-time I could probably go around trying every year until I found him."

"Even then..." Bert shook his head. "It'd be like finding a needle in a haystack. Except instead of having just one go, you’d have multiple ones. Finding Frank wouldn't really get any easier. Not to mention that you'd have to start over every week."

"Well, you could just hang out in the same year forever until he comes along," Hayley posed. "Is there any year he mentioned liking?"

"Uh… he said he liked 1888. And 1925, I think..." Gerard recalled. "Have you ever met him?"

"Yeah," Hayley laughed as she and Bert again exchanged looks. "Bert and I both met him a while back in 2001, before we settled on the sixties."

"We weren't really jumpers..." Bert recounted, "But we did do a fair share of exploring. We went to '01 last year and Frank was performing there."

 _"Performing?!"_ Gerard asked incredulously. "Performing _how?!"_

"Oh, he was a male stripper," Bert replied in a serious tone.

Gerard gasped, "What?!"

 _"Bert,"_ Hayley said sternly.

The other man abruptly burst into laughter. "I'm just fucking with you. Frank played guitar in a band for a few months. They performed mainly in the 90s and 2000s. We went to see one of their shows in '01, and we met him here at Jupiter’s after the concert," Bert explained.

"But Frank’s band broke up a while back," Hayley added. 

"Why did they break up?" Gerard frowned, "Frank didn't tell me that when I met him."

"When _did_ you meet him?" Bert asked.

"Last week."

"No, sweetie," Hayley giggled. "He means," she waved her hand around, signaling towards the bar around her, "when, as in, in _here."_

"Oh!" Gerard quickly realized Hayley and Bert were referring to the time period _within_ San Junipero in which he met Frank. "I met him in 1987," he told them.

"Man, you should really try the 2000s. They have the _best_ concerts," Hayley commented.

"Oh, yeah!" Bert smiled at her. "Remember when we saw Lady Gaga in 2009? That was so fun!"

"Ooh, what about that time we saw Evanescence in 2003?" Hayley retorted, getting visibly excited at the memory. 

"No, the best concert we saw was definitely Green Day in 2005," Bert stated with confidence. He turned to Gerard, "You _need_ to see Green Day live, man."

"Dude, what the hell? They're still performing? In the _afterlife?"_ Gerard asked, almost laughing at how crazy the idea was. "They're one of my favorite bands ever."

"Yes!" Hayley grinned. "Aw, man, their concerts are the best in San Junipero! We're definitely all going the next time they play."

"You can tell they all really love performing," Bert added. "Their shows are always a blast." He smirked at Gerard, "And, you know who you'd _definitely_ run into at a Green Day concert?"

"Your little Frankie…" Hayley sang. 

It was then that Ariel reappeared with the fries, placing a small woven basket carefully on the surface of the bar. Gerard immediately noticed the fries smelled delicious - even before he registered Ariels' presence nearby. However, once he did, Gerard's attention quickly diverted away from the french fries and right back to the sexy chef. 

He didn't know what he was expecting, but Ariel hadn't gotten any less hotter than they'd been the first time Gerard had seen them. "Here you go," Ariel said after the basket was settled in front of the three friends. They tossed a rag over their shoulder and shot Gerard - _only Gerard_ \- a coy smile before making their way back towards the kitchen.

"Dude..." Bert spoke with a mouth full of french fry, "I can't believe you got Ariel's attention."

"What do you mean?" Gerard wondered, taking a fry himself and feeling deeply impressed with how delicious it was. "Holy shit," he exclaimed in amazement, "this is incredible!"

"I know right?" Hayley smiled, picking at the fries too. "And by the way, Bert is totally right. Ariel was definitely checking you out."

"Pft..." Gerard dismissed, "no they weren't."

"They _definitely_ were," Bert cooed, again appearing to be excited, almost like a teenager getting in on some fresh gossip. "I think you should go for it."

Gerard scratched his head nervously. "I don't know..." he hesitated to agree. "Can San Junipero employees even date users?"

"No rule against it," Hayley informed. "I know a girl who went on a few dates with Ray." 

The friends continued chatting, eating their fries and taking sips from their respective drinks occasionally. Hayley and Bert made a few more attempts at convincing Gerard to make a proper move on Ariel, but once they noticed the man just didn't seem particularly excited at the prospect of acting upon his obvious attraction to the chef, they dropped the subject. 

"I think we should get you out of here," Hayley told Gerard once the fries were finished. She then turned to Bert, "We should take him somewhere we definitely _won't_ find Frank Iero."

Bert raised a finger and finished off his margarita with a large swig before he suggested, "Let's take him to Venus Beach. Frank's always at Jupiter's anyways."

Hayley and Bert both got up from their bar stools and motioned for Gerard to come with them. "Oh, you're gonna love Venus Beach; it's beautiful at night. Come on, we're taking you there," Hayley said, taking Gerard's hand, half-dragging him out of Jupiter's and into a blue vintage muscle car parked outside. 

"You're driving?" Bert asked Hayley when the woman put herself in the driver's seat without consulting either him or Gerard. When he got into the passenger seat, Gerard took the hint and awkwardly climbed into the backseat.

"Well, duh," Hayley rolled her eyes. "I'm not letting any of y'all drive my car. Besides, you had quite a bit to drink, and I haven't seen Gerard drive enough to hand my car over to him."

"Trust me, you're better off asking a toddler to drive your car than me," Gerard laughed. He was a truly atrocious driver. Although Gerard did have a license, he knew with every fiber of his being that he _should not_ have one. 

Hayley and Bert seemed to find Gerard's comment funny too. "Honestly, I'm not much better," Bert confessed. "It's probably for the best that she's behind the wheel." Hayley laughed lightheartedly and began backing out of her parking space across the bar. The three of them were soon on the road, which was empty and calm that night. 

"Yep, you're definitely a better driver than me," Gerard commented once he noticed Hayley's driving was slow and steady compared to his frantic whizzing. "If I were you, I would've probably run into a lamppost by now."

"You know, Bert's a pretty bad driver too," said Hayley, her eyes still on the road. "I lent him my car once and it was overall a very stressful experience."

Bert gasped, clearly indignated with this remark. "Hey! I got us where we needed to go!"

"Dude," Hayley chuckled, "you drove in zigzags the _entire time._ Down a road that was fully straight." For emphasis, she pointed down at the road in front of them, which was not only fully straight, but being correctly navigated by her accurate driving.

 _"But did or did I not get us where we needed to go?"_ Bert argued.

"You _barely_ got us there in one piece, dude."

"Were you sober when this happened?" Gerard asked the other man, joining the conversation.

Bert sighed, "Unfortunately."

Hayley and Gerard both teased Bert some more until they parked, Hayley's lively voice announcing their arrival. "Welcome to Venus Beach!" she exclaimed, stepping out of the car. The two men followed her outside, and Gerard noticed right away how the air in this location felt fresh, crisp, yet warm - like he was _actually_ at the beach on a summer night. 

Someone up in TCKR Systems was definitely a brilliant computer scientist. 

Although there were no lampposts here, the moon looked almost fake with how bright it shone that evening - so no artificial lighting was necessary to illuminate the beach. Well, Gerard supposed this moon _was_ fake, but he was surprised to see that the programmers had decided to create this almost fairytale-like scenery, as TCKR Systems insisted on making San Junipero a realistic experience. 

Gerard could see why this place was called Venus Beach.

"Come on," Bert beckoned for Gerard to follow them, as the two friends had walked quite a way ahead while Gerard was busy gawking at the moon.

He woke from his daze and caught up with Hayley and Bert, who took off their shoes once they set foot on the sand. Gerard assumed he was meant to do the same and followed their lead, taking off his own shoes and holding the pair in his hands while they approached the sea. 

Hayley and Bert carelessly tossed their shoes on the sand before they dipped their feet into the water, which looked almost cobalt blue under the moonlight. Gerard chose to sit on a wet section of sand, stretching out his legs and letting the ocean get his pants wet as the calm waves came and went. 

"So, Gerard, tell me..." Hayley started, looking compassionate and non-judgemental, "why don't you want to make a move on Ariel?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "Honestly… I kinda just want Frank," Gerard admitted. 

"How'd you meet him, by the way?" Bert asked, gently kicking up some water as he stepped a little further into the sea.

Gerard grinned at the memory. "He spilled a drink on me."

"What?!" Hayley laughed, seemingly amused and slightly surprised by this fact. Bert shot the other man a confused look as well, but remained silent as he waited for an explanation. 

"Yeah," Gerard giggled in between words as he recounted, "he tripped and by chance fell on me. Got his drink all over himself and some on me too. Then he flirted with me."

"So smooth for _the_ Frank Iero," Bert mocked. "You flirted back with a man who spilled a drink on you?" he asked in disbelief. 

"Hey! He was a very sexy man!" Gerard justified himself. 

Hayley wondered, "You weren't mad at him for spilling his drink on you?" 

"Well..." Gerard flopped down on the wet sand, not caring about his hair getting damp, "I _was_ a little annoyed for about half a second until I saw his face. The fact he looked all delectable with his wet shirt probably didn't help much either." He felt a wave come up and wet his feet, stopping at his knees.

"Sounds like this guy really left a mark on you..." the blonde woman correctly observed.

"Yeah… he sorta did..." Gerard agreed as he absentmindedly sifted his fingers through the sand around him. When he touched a larger, stiff object buried in the sand, Gerard grabbed it and brought it to his face to see what it was. He was pleased to see a little white seashell staring back at him - how simple yet wonderful it was to see someone had taken the time to write seashells into San Junipero.

Gerard waited for a wave to come so he could rinse the seashell. He soon held it up to Hayley, "Hey, can you hold on to this for me?"

"Sure," she replied, shooting him a sweet smile before she pocketed the seashell. 

"So, we're meeting you here next week?" Bert asked from a few feet away, about knee-deep in the water. 

Gerard hummed, "Can you guys meet me in 1888 next Friday? At Jupiter's?" he requested, remembering how Frank had mentioned liking that year in particular. 

Bert instantly recognized the year, "You're gonna look for Frank?" He flashed Gerard a cheeky grin.

"Do you guys mind?" Gerard suddenly felt insecure about his request and sat back up, looking at Hayley and Bert with a fearful expression.

"No, not at all." Hayley reassured him, removing the seashell from her pocket and briefly holding it up to Gerard as a reminder of their commitment, "We're here for you."

"What does that mean?" Gerard asked, bemused; he didn't know what that was supposed to mean in San Junipero.

Hayley smiled. She and Bert both nodded at each other before she answered Gerard with relaxed certainty.

"It means we're gonna help you find Frank."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try." - John F. Kennedy_  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Sorry this chapter took so long! I was busy wrapping up [Bad Romance.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25136302) But it's complete now (and binge-ready, wink wink), so the chapters here should def come much faster from now on.
> 
> Btw, Gerard is pansexual in this fic! Ik I put "pansexual character" in the tags but I wanted to clarify that it's referring to Gerard. And as you might've guessed, Ariel is the nb original character ;)
> 
> Anyways, what did you guys think? I hope you're enjoying this little ficlet.
> 
> Stay fabulous,  
> \- Venom  
> Tumblr: [thepoisonpills](https://thepoisonpills.tumblr.com/)


	4. 1888

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship." - Louisa May Alcott, Little Women_

"So, how are we gonna go about this?" Bert asked Hayley, who sat on the other side of the booth by Gerard.

Unlike anywhere - or any… _when?_ \- Gerard had seen before, this time setting had live music playing at Jupiter's; a pianist sat a few feet away from the three friends calmly playing a piece that Gerard did not recognize, but thought pleasant nonetheless. Jupiter's was emptier than it'd been in 1987 or 1963, but the people there seemed to all be genuinely engaged in conversations either at the bar or at their own booths. Gerard could definitely see why Frank recommended 1888. 

"I've devised a plan over the week while you weren't here," Hayley told Gerard. "I'm gonna go over it now, and if any of you have questions, ask away. Got it?" The two men nodded in understanding and Hayley opened up a notepad, beginning to go over its contents.

"Alright, so, if both us and Frank are jumping around, chances we'll find him are little to none. Think about it, there's 200 different time settings in San Junipero and both of us are jumping around, seemingly at random. In those circumstances, the chances we both land on the same year are - and I did the math - less than one percent. However, everyone in San Junipero needs a where, and most importantly, a _when_ to live." 

Hayley took a pause then to let that information sink in. Gerard, however, didn't really understand what she meant with her last statement. She made it sound important, though, so Gerard thought to quickly ask her about it before she could continue. "Hey, uh… Hayley?" he started, feeling unsure of himself. "What do you mean everyone in San Junipero needs a where and when to live?"

"Every permanent resident of San Junipero - basically, anyone who's uploaded - such as Frank, Bert, and myself, needs to pick not only a place to live, but a time setting too." Hayley clarified, "Bert and I both live in 1963, for example. This all means that Frank actually _lives_ some… when."

"In a nutshell…" she then summarized, "Frank has an actual _house,_ where he likely spends most of the week, in a _fixed year."_ Hayley turned a page on her notepad before she continued, "With Frank's whereabouts - or better yet, _whenabouts_ \- fixed throughout the week, our chances of finding him are much greater. He likely does most, if not _all_ of his jumping around Friday evening, which is when all the part-timers come to San Junipero to hang out. Although being a jumper is fun, it can be rather emotionally draining to have your social life reset so often - usually, jumpers have a sort of 'comfort year' that they can go to for a little rest. That's where - and when - Frank lives."

"Now, finding out where he lives probably won't be so tough. There are only a couple of residential neighborhoods per decade, so the problem won't really be finding out the _where."_ Hayley took a deep breath and kept on relaying the plan, "The _when,_ however, poses a bigger problem. We can eliminate a few decades just on basic logic, but it still leaves quite a bit of territory for Bert and I to scour."

"What decades have you eliminated?" Bert asked.

Hayley flipped another page on her notepad. "I'm guessing Frank doesn't live in the 1950s, since he probably can't afford a house there. It's the most expensive decade to live in San Junipero, and even if Frank _can_ afford a house there, I doubt he'd want to live around other 50s people." By the way Hayley scrunched up her nose and Bert nodded in understanding, Gerard guessed the people who lived there were rather unpleasant. “We can probably eliminate the 2020s upon the same logic.”

Bert pushed further, "What else?" 

"Well, by the opposite logic, I'm guessing Frank likely doesn't live in the 1850s, 60s, or 70s. The houses there are usually run-down and he can definitely afford a better place. I think the best decades for Bert and I to start looking are the 1880s, then the 1920s, 1990s, and finally, the 2000s. We can probably get about two decades done per week if we're both looking."

“What about Ray?” Gerard thought to suggest. “He can see when and where everyone is. Can’t we just ask him where-sorry, _when_ Frank is?” 

“San Junipero employees can't give out that type of information,” Hayley stated sadly but surely. “And it’s not like we can force it out of him.”

It was then that Gerard recalled something the woman had told him the previous week when they’d met. “What about your friend who went on a few dates with him?” Gerard wondered, “Can’t we ask her to… kindly draw it out of Ray?”

Hayley shot him a disapproving look, but Bert quickly chimed in before she could reprimand Gerard any further. “Aw, man…” Bert gazed dreamily at the bartender from where the three friends sat at their booth, _”I_ wanna go on a date with Ray. He’s so cool…”

“I know…” Gerard agreed, turning to gaze at Ray too. “And his arms are so strong…”

“Gentlemen, focus!” Hayley exclaimed, not sounding annoyed but rather impatient. “Gerard, do you even have a type, man?” 

He shrugged, “Sexy is sexy.”

“Very well articulated,” Bert praised. 

Hayley rolled her eyes. “Hey, we have a man to find, remember?! I haven't finished telling you guys my plan. Now, Gerard, are you getting uploaded?” 

“Uh…” the man looked around nervously, avoiding her stare, “I don't know yet,” he mumbled. 

“In case you do, it’d be much easier to find Frank if we also had you going around looking for him,” she reasoned. "This whole operation could take _months,_ man."

"I'm sorry," Gerard apologized, feeling a little guilty about occupying so much of Hayley and Berts' time. They were already being beyond helpful - volunteering their time to help look for Frank only because Gerard felt the need to see him again. "I don't know how to repay you guys."

"We're not doing this because we want something in return, dude," Bert laughed. 

"That's business, not friendship," Hayley completed. "We just wanna help you. Besides, we have... eternity in the afterlife. We need _something_ to help us pass the time. And helping a friend doesn't sound like a waste of that time to me." She smiled kindly at Gerard before continuing, "Anyways, if we _do_ find out when and where Frank lives, we still have a problem."

Gerard sighed, a little overwhelmed at how complicated this operation already was. "What is it?"

"Well, say we _do_ find out when Frank lives," Hayley posed. "He's still gonna jump on Friday nights, which is when you, Gerard, come to San Junipero. It'll be like a Catch-22 situation. You'll be in the year Frank lives on the one night he's not there,” she frowned sympathetically.

"God," Gerard buried his head in his hands, "I didn't even think about that."

"You could simply come to San Junipero on like, a Wednesday or something," Bert suggested. "Just another night when Frank isn't jumping around.”

"Yeah," Hayley agreed, nodding at Bert, "when we find Frank, we'll let you know where he lives on the first Friday we see you after that. And then on the following week, you log in on a day that isn't Friday so you can catch Frank at home." She then shut her notepad and took a serious tone as she told Gerard, “However, there's one final thing to consider.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Gerard…” she trailed off, a pained look on her face. It was clear Hayley disliked what she was about to say, but still felt it a necessary point to bring up. “Have you… have you considered…” she stumbled, “have you considered whether Frank actually _wants_ you to find him? What if… I know you won't like thinking about this, but what if Frank doesn't want to be found?"

"I-I..." Gerard stuttered, "I don't… know."

Bert interjected, "Well, we could find him, and if it turns out he doesn't want you to talk to him, you could just leave him alone after that. I think it's worth it for you to reach out to him at least once," he shrugged.

"I suppose Bert is right..." Gerard mumbled. "He didn't tell me anything about whether or not he wanted to see me again. I guess I'll check, and if he doesn't want to see me, I'll drop it."

"Alright," Hayley accepted this move. "Just… I don't want it to feel like we're chasing this man down, you know?"

Gerard nodded, "Yeah." He quickly felt as if he needed to get some fresh air - right as Gerard started worrying too much about their plan to find Frank, the air inside Jupiter's became too hot. It was definitely stuffy in there, right? Whatever the matter, Gerard simply muttered, "I'm gonna step out for a minute, I need some fresh air," before he shuffled past Hayley and made his way outside the bar.

Unlike 1963, there were no parking spaces outside Jupiter's in 1888. Gerard figured this was rather obvious considering the lack of cars widely available to the public in 1888; he made a momentary remark to himself to later ask Hayley if San Juniperians in the 19th century traveled by chariot. 

The man settled for sitting at an empty bench by Jupiter's entrance; the entire façade of the bar was empty if not for Gerard anyways. Once outside, Gerard let himself do a few rounds of deep, relaxing breaths. After all, the process had become so difficult outside of San Junipero. In here, Gerard could feel every molecule of oxygen entering his lungs - fresh and easy. Outside, however, it seemed like breathing was more of an arduous task each day. And even though he _knew_ smoking couldn't possibly do him any good in his current circumstances - considering he'd probably want to go smoke outside too when he logged off - the first thing Gerard did after settling into a comfortable position outside Jupiter's was light up a cigarette.

Old habits die hard, after all.

The first drag of a new cigarette was always the best one in Gerard's opinion. It was the initial taste, and therefore meant he had a whole cigarette still ahead of him. As Gerard first exhaled, his eyes landed on a club across the street from where he sat outside Jupiter's. _Apollo's Club For Gentlemen,_ it read on the sign above the door. Well, _gentlemen's club_ seemed like an overly kind name for what Gerard was currently looking at; the few men who sat outside on a table looked like anything but gentlemen. Their faces were buried in large glasses of beer and there were numerous empty glasses already on their table; their boisterous laughter echoed into the night.

What caught Gerard's eyes in particular about the scene was a woman - the only woman he seemed to notice in the vicinity of the club - who sat unenthusiastically on the lap of one of the men, clearly attempting to ignore whatever conversation they seemed to be having. She was a beautiful woman, Gerard immediately observed. Her coral pink dress complimented her long brown hair perfectly, and seemed to be almost a perfect match to the gloss on her lips. There was something rather concerning, almost inhuman, about the shade of her skin; it looked sickeningly pale under the moonlight. Before Gerard could even dare to look away, the woman glanced straight at him, catching his gaze and holding it with unwavering confidence.

There was something extremely Lindsey-like about her glare. 

Although Gerard wanted to look away from this lady, he just _couldn't._ Now that she was facing him, Gerard could see her skin was ashen rather than pale - her strong eyebrows and powerful dark eyes suggested she was Hispanic instead of Caucasian, and the white rosary around her neck only further asserted it. Her stare was powerful albeit sunken. It reminded Gerard of when Lindsey would stay up to work on a piece, smoking cigarette after cigarette so the nicotine buzz would keep her up and focused. The way this woman stared at Gerard was confident yet clearly exhausted. 

However, before Gerard could consider approaching the woman somehow, another presence made itself known. His cigarette got snatched right out of his hand as he felt the weight on the bench shift next to him. 

When Gerard turned to look at the cause of the disturbance, he was faced with no one other than the attractive chef he'd seen the previous week. Ariel took a long drag of Gerard's cigarette, shortly announcing, "Your friends are still inside," as they exhaled smoothly.

"That's..." Gerard stumbled, "that's... mine." He quickly saw the woman he'd been observing get up and walk back inside the club, vanishing from sight.

Ariel shot him a playful smile before taking yet another drag of Gerard's cigarette. "Well, I was tired of watching you waste a perfectly good smoke while you were daydreaming over there." They blew some smoke upwards, almost as if aiming at the moon. "Would you like it back?"

"I suppose we can share." 

"I suppose we can," Ariel smirked. "What's got you so blue?"

Gerard briefly considered lying, but that night all he wanted was someone to talk to. A blank slate, if you will. Before he knew it, he was spilling, "Well, for starters, I'm dying of an incurable disease," almost nonchalantly.

Ariel titled their head to the side thoughtfully. "What've you got?" they asked, holding the cigarette to their lips but not inhaling yet.

"Lung cancer," Gerard shrugged noncommittally. "Terminal."

"And you're out here smoking?" 

"It's not like I can fuck up my lungs any more. I'm surprised they've lasted this long," he chuckled. "The damage is well past done. It's how my wife went and how I'll go too. Although she'd probably be rather disappointed if she saw me right now..." 

Ariel frowned, "How long have you got?" They took a long drag of the cigarette then, listening carefully to the man next to them.

"A few weeks, I think," Gerard answered honestly. "Maybe a couple of months if I'm unlucky. Turns out the end stages of lung cancer are crazy uncomfortable..." He trailed off briefly before he thought to add, "A few months back it spread to some of my bones and let me tell you, that shit hurts like a motherfucker."

"I'm part-time too," Ariel confessed, re-offering Gerard his cigarette. When he accepted, they graciously handed it over to him as they shifted in their seat, leaning more comfortably onto the bench. "I work at TCKR though, so I can log on more often than you can."

"What do you do at TCKR?" Gerard inquired whilst he took a quick puff of his cigarette.

Ariel flashed him a grin. "Design," they replied.

Gerard gasped excitedly, "Woah, really?!" When Ariel gave him a confirming nod, he said, "I'm an artist too! I write comic books. What did you design in here, the food?"

"No, I did the landscaping," the chef turned to look around at the trees surrounding them, "at least most of it. I did the plants and beaches. I just happen to be a good cook, so they put me as a chef in here."

"No way, you did the beaches?!" Gerard gawked, amazed that Ariel had designed the gorgeous beach he'd seen the previous week. "Last week I was in Venus Beach, it was..." he paused, flabbergasted as he searched for the proper adjective to describe the scene, "it was… it was beautiful."

Ariel turned back to face him. "Thank you," they said, smiling. "I did some of the architecture in this century too. Have you ever been to Mexico?"

"No."

"Well, I have. I live in California so it's a daytrip," Ariel shrugged. "I designed the map of San Junipero like Mexico City. It's symmetrical around the central plaza," they traced a circle in the air to illustrate their point. "If you go downtown someday there's plenty of cool things to do. Although my favorite things to design were definitely the beaches." 

"Did you take them out of real places too?"

Ariel shook their head from side to side, "They were _inspired_ by places I've seen. South Africa, Costa Rica, Italy..." they listed casually.

"What's Venus Beach, then?"

The chef grinned brightly, "Greece."

"Shame I haven't been then… Venus Beach is beautiful." Gerard took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out on the armrest of the bench, tossing the butt at the sidewalk. "You've traveled a lot?"

"TCKR's sent me to plenty of places. They sent a bunch of designers to different cities around the world so we could take notes, pictures, and whatever. Therefore, San Junipero could be at least a little familiar to every user," they explained.

"Ariel?" Gerard said, suddenly wishing to change the subject. He nodded towards the men across the street at _Apollo's Club For Gentlemen,_ "What do you think those guys are doing?" he wondered.

"Passing the time," Ariel replied instantly.

Gerard furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "What are the rest of us doing then, if not for passing the time?"

"Living," Ariel stated with certainty. _"Living and passing the time are two completely different things, Mr. Way."_

"You can just call me Gerard," he laughed. "We're past those formalities, I think."

Ariel smirked in a flash, so quickly that Gerard would've missed it had he not been subtly checking out their face. "I didn't call you that for formalities," they mumbled. "Anyways, those men are passing the time because they haven't yet decided how they're gonna continue living. It happens at one point to most people when they come to San Junipero. They go wild for a few months, maybe even for a few years, before they get bored and realize they don't really know how they want to keep on living now that they're free from their jobs, money, and the like... so they pass the time until they figure it out."

"Does that really happen to most people?" Gerard frowned.

"Of course. Very few people know who they are if not for the things which they are surrounded by," Ariel whispered, staring up at the moon rather than facing Gerard. "Your career, your family, even the music you listen to… that's all other people. When you take that away, it can be hard to figure out what comes next. On the outside you always have the next promotion, maybe your child's graduation or wedding, or maybe even your favorite bands' upcoming album. Other people make your time _for you._ They define you, even."

"I hadn't thought about it like that," Gerard confessed, leaning back onto the bench and joining Ariel in their regard of the moon above. It was truly gorgeous that night, as it always was - almost a lightbulb in the sky. 

Ariel then turned to face him again, however, causing Gerard to curiously tilt his head in their direction. "How do you want to live, if you get uploaded?"

"I haven't thought about that yet."

"Think of it now," Ariel suggested, shrugging casually. "Look up at the sky. It's what I always do when I need to think in here."

He did as instructed, gazing at the bright luminescent moon as he reflected on what he wanted in case he decided to get uploaded. In the end, there was only one thing Gerard could come up with.

"I think..." he grinned up at the sky, "I want to fall in love."

"Then get to it," Ariel said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "I'm pretty sure my break is over - I need to go back inside now. It was nice talking to you," they got up and waved the man on the bench a goodbye before they disappeared back into Jupiter's. Gerard watched them go, eyes lingering on the entrance of the bar until two familiar faces made themselves known, a feminine voice booming through the night soon afterwards.

"There you are!" Hayley announced, approaching Gerard.

Bert soon joined, "I thought you'd choked and died on that fresh air."

"I just came out for a cigarette and got caught up in a conversation with Ariel," Gerard told them the truth, not bothering to hide it - especially since the two friends had likely just crossed the chef on their way outside. "But I'm alright."

Bert smirked suggestively, "You were _just_ talking?" he asked, taking a seat next to Gerard at the bench. Hayley stood a few feet away by a lamppost, slowly approaching it as if she'd noticed something odd about it.

"Yeah," Gerard nodded, "it was actually a really interesting conversation. Did you know they're a designer for TCKR? Ariel designed all the beaches, actually."

Bert raised his eyebrows in surprise, "I didn't know that!" he exclaimed. "They must be really good, 'cause the beaches in San Junipero are gorgeous."

"I told them we were at Venus Beach last week, and they said it was actually inspired by a beach in Greece. Apparently TCKR sent the designers traveling so they cou-"

 _"Oh my fucking God,"_ Hayley suddenly interrupted, ripping a flyer off the lamppost a few feet from where the men sat. 

"What is it?"

She ran towards Gerard and Bert, holding the flyer up to them so they could read its contents. "It's the program for next week! All the attractions that are happening next Friday in San Junipero! _Look!"_

Gerard quickly grimaced, confused. "Why the hell would we see a string quartet in 1852?"

Hayley rolled her eyes, "No, not _that!_ Look at the 1990s!"

His eyes scanned towards the bottom of the page, and Gerard immediately saw what had her so excited. In shock, Gerard grabbed the flyer and snatched it right out of Hayley's hands, holding it so tightly he creased the paper at its edges. Gerard read it. He read it again. In fact, Gerard read it a third and even a fourth time just to be sure he hadn't misread the miraculous words on the flyer. 

_1994: Green Day live at City Plaza._

"Get ready, Gee," Hayley smiled. "We have a concert to go to next week. And I think a certain someone might be there too..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Life is one fool thing after another whereas love is two fool things after each other." - Oscar Wilde, The Happy Prince and Other Tales_  
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> I'm not gonna lie to you guys. I was high af while I wrote this one.
> 
> BESIDES THAT, what did you think? I'm so excited for the next chapter of this. Ik this is just a little side project while I do research for my next big fic but I'm really enjoying this story!
> 
> Stay fabulous,  
> \- Venom  
> Tumblr: [thepoisonpills](https://thepoisonpills.tumblr.com/)


	5. 1994

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"No one is afraid of heights, they're afraid of falling down. No one's afraid of saying 'I love you,' they're afraid of the answer." - Kurt Cobain_

_"ARE YOU GUYS FUCKIN' READY?!"_ Billie Joe Armstrong's raspy voice shot through the plaza. Gerard felt the vibrations boom through his entire body; he could've sworn it was just like being in the pit at a real rock concert. There was a sudden wave of cheers, and Gerard physically felt the entire crowd shake around him, as if they were _vibrating_ with sheer excitement.

The night was bright and so very alive.

Just as the audience began to die down, Billie Joe strummed the opening chords to what Gerard recognized as _Welcome To Paradise,_ making the crowd cheer anew. Gerard quickly glanced over at Bert and Hayley next to him, who looked so different in their black punk attire - almost like they'd match Frank - and they only shot him excited looks in return, jumping up and down as the rest of the band joined in to play the song. 

Gerard decided to let loose for a little while and joined them in their rhythmic bouncing, singing along to the lyrics with a smile on his face. He couldn't remember the last time his body felt so _good._ If he tried jumping even once out in the real world, he'd likely pass out before he could even make it off the ground. 

Although Gerard hadn't mentioned it to Hayley or Bert yet, something monumental had happened since the last time he'd seen them the previous week.

That thing being: Gerard had scheduled his passing. 

Gerard was scheduled to pass almost exactly nine days from now at 7:30pm on Sunday, April 16th, 2056. 

Even though Gerard had already prepared all of his forms to get uploaded into San Junipero once he'd passed away, he hadn't yet given his final signature. There was just one last thing missing: Frank. 

However, at the moment, only one thing was important - and that thing was definitely, one-hundred-percent, _in no way, shape, or form,_ a man by the name of Frank Iero. Gerard was going to enjoy this goddamn concert no matter what. After all, what did that emo short-stack have on motherfucking _Green Day?_ Right?

… right..?

Gerard shook his head to wake himself up, tuning back into the music being played. He noticed the crowd had stopped jumping and was instead clapping to the beat of the song, now cheering for the bass solo. Fuck, Gerard loved this song when he was seventeen. Seventeen-year-old Gerard was definitely onto something when he got a _Dookie_ cassette tape. Holy shit. He joined the audience's clapping and grinned brightly; this was brilliant.

Soon enough, the next song started, and Gerard found it easier than he'd expected to get lost in the music. He clapped when the crowd clapped, cheered when they cheered, and even jumped when they jumped, finding himself delighted at how easy it was to move around in San Junipero. Well, who the hell would program _lung cancer_ into what was supposed to be a simulation of paradise? The air in here felt crisp as fuck anyways. Gerard couldn't remember breathing ever feeling so _delightful_ as it did now.

Maybe being alive wasn't so bad after all.

After a couple of songs, Gerard began feeling a little thirsty. The more he tried to sing along to the music, the scratchier his throat felt. Once the feeling became close to unbearable, he turned to Hayley and Bert.

"I'm gonna go get some water," he informed them, shouting over the loud music. "You guys want anything to drink?"

"Can you get me a beer?" Hayley responded.

Bert shouted over the music too, "One for me as well, if you can carry it." He gave a dismissive wave, "If not, just bring Hayley's!"

Gerard nodded and began shuffling through the crowd towards a tent reading, _"Drinks,"_ which he logically assumed was for water and other beverages. Once Gerard reached it, he requested a water bottle to the blue-haired lady working the tent, who appeared oddly enthusiastic about being there. Well, he supposed that she probably got to attend the concert for free, which was enough reason to be chipper in Gerard's book. 

"Here you go," the lady said, handing Gerard the freshest looking water bottle he'd ever seen in his life. 

He gave her a thankful nod before twisting the bottle open and almost downing it in one go, feeling like the life force had just been shot back into this body. If there was anything in the universe better than fresh cold water, Gerard didn't know what it was. Once he was done quenching his thirst, Gerard chucked the bottle into a nearby bin before requesting his friends' beers.

"Can I have two beers, please?"

"Bottle, can, or cup?" the blue-haired lady asked.

"Uh..." Gerard gaped, the question falling on unexpecting ears. Hayley seemed like a bottle kind of woman, didn't she? Everyone likes drinking stuff from a bottle. "Bottle, and… uh..." He then considered: Well, Bert seemed like a beer-in-a-cup kinda guy, right? Maybe it was all the same to him. "Cup," Gerard then decided, doing his best to appear confident in his choices. 

The woman working the tent appeared to find this mixed selection a little odd but still did as asked, retrieving a bottle of beer and pouring a can into a plastic cup, handing them both over to Gerard when she was done. Gerard accepted them graciously, mumbling a short, "thank you," before beginning to make his way back over to Hayley and Bert. He stretched his neck to peep over the crowd in an attempt to find them; neither Hayley nor Bert were particularly tall. Gerard was barely out of the tent when he missed a short figure in his way, bumping into them clumsily and spilling Bert's beer all over their shirt.

 _"Fuck!"_ the figure said, staring down at their own shirt which was now soaked. 

"I'm so sorry!" Gerard immediately apologized, taking a step back. "I didn't see you!" He flailed his arms around uselessly as he attempted to figure out what to do to help this person.

The figure, which Gerard soon saw was a man, removed his soaked shirt right there and held it up, grimacing at it. Although Gerard knew it was rude to stare, this man's body was _covered_ in tattoos, and he had no choice but to have a look. His eyes quickly wandered to the swallows on the man's hips, which Gerard could've _sworn_ he'd seen before. 

"God fucking damnit," the man said. Before Gerard could get caught checking him out, he fixed his eyes on the man's face instead, which to his surprise, he recognized. 

_"Frank."_

He tore his eyes away from his wet shirt and glanced up at Gerard, clearly surprised to be referred to by name. "Gerard," Frank replied once he took a second to recognize the other man, his expression unreadable. He appeared to be just as, if not _more_ surprised than Gerard was to see the other.

"You... you're here," Gerard gawked, letting out a relieved laugh. 

Frank gulped, now appearing concerned, "I am."

"I found you." 

"You did."

Gerard frowned, noticing something was off about the other man right away. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, slowly beginning to mirror the concern on Frank's otherwise stoic face. He could still hear the music playing from the concert but barely focused on it now. 

"Uh… I just wasn't expecting to see you." Frank’s eyebrows were high on his face and his eyes were wide - it was clear as day that he'd been thrown off guard by Gerard's sudden apparition. "That's all."

"Am I unwelcome?" Gerard asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Erm, no," Frank answered, voice quivering as if he wasn't sure of whether he was telling the truth or not. "Were you looking for me?" his voice cracked on the first word of his question, the rest of it coming out as nothing but a whisper. 

Gerard's mind raced then, attempting to interpret the situation. Frank didn't look all that pleased to see him. Therefore, what was the logical conclusion? Play it cool, of course. "No," Gerard lied. "I just… really like Green Day." At least _that_ bit was true. 

"Oh," Frank somehow seemed even more upset by this fact, "okay then." 

Fuck, did he say the wrong thing? "Well..." Gerard attempted to salvage the conversation, "I was hoping I'd run into you."

 _"Were you?"_ Frank asked in disbelief, now seeming to have been angered. "You didn't want to find me," he scoffed passive-aggressively. 

Now Gerard was properly confused. "Frank… what?"

"You weren't there!" Frank exclaimed like he was stating the obvious. "The week after we met! You… " he briefly trailed off, shaking his head before he completed, "you didn't go back."

Gerard shot him a puzzled look. "Hold on… you went back to 1987?"

"Well, yeah," the shorter man momentarily looked embarrassed, akin to a schoolgirl admitting to a crush. "You weren't there. I was there for the two weeks after we met and you never went back!"

"How the hell was I supposed to know where you'd be?!" Gerard snapped, now a little angry himself. "You never told me, and all I heard about you was that you were a jumper, so how was I supposed to guess where you wanted to meet me?"

"You didn't even try, Gerard!" Frank chuckled in exasperation. "Not even for a fucking day."

"Oh, you can swear again?"

"Yeah, my punishment was lifted, but that's besides the point," he shrugged it off before getting back on track. "You didn't come back to '87."

"Well, yeah, because I heard you were a jumper, so I figured that's the _last_ place you'd be," Gerard argued. 

"Ah, so now you _were_ looking for me," Frank snarked, clearly annoyed by the other man's inconsistencies. "Looks like we'll both be jumping for the rest of time, right? Seems like you have a little talent for being a jumper yourself."

"No." Gerard shook his head, now doing his best to sound distant and impersonal, "I'm passing next week. I haven't signed to an uploading yet."

"Wait..." Frank dropped his aggressive tone completely, now just sounding hurt, "you're not getting uploaded?" He stared up at Gerard with beady eyes, as if waiting for some sort of punchline.

"I haven't signed anything yet," Gerard half-lied. "I don't know if I will."

"Why not?"

"Why would I?!" he asked. "I've already gone to college, had my fun, gotten married, and gotten old. What's left to do?"

"Grow old," Frank said.

"I'm already old," Gerard retorted. "I don't think seventy-eight is very young."

"No," Frank rolled his eyes, "you've _gotten_ old. Doesn't mean you've _grown_ old yet."

Gerard crossed his arms, guarding himself. "And how do you know I haven't _grown_ old, like you say?"

"Would you be at a Green Day concert if you'd grown old?" Frank asked, looking like he'd won this part of the argument.

"Everyone likes Green Day."

"Yeah, _duh,"_ Frank chuckled breathlessly, "but do the old and cranky choose to hang out in the pit?"

"Why are you trying to drag me to the afterlife with you, Frank?" Gerard yelled, feeling frustrated. "What's in it for you? You can find someone else to dance with, someone else to kiss… someone who's already _here."_

"You think I just go around kissing everyone I meet?" 

"That's not what I said. I'm just asking why you can't just settle for what's already in here." What the hell was Gerard saying? He couldn't even tell himself why he was making an argument _against_ hanging out with Frank in the afterlife. This was the opposite of what he wanted and yet, he was too stubborn to stop now.

Frank sighed annoyedly, "Gerard, I didn't just kiss you for the sake of kissing someone. I kissed you because I wanted to kiss _you._ I talked to you because I wanted to hear what _you_ had to say."

"What do you even want from me, Frank?" Gerard asked, his voice now hoarse and broken. He briefly heard the crowd cheer as the opening chords of _When I Come Around_ began playing but he couldn't bother to pay attention, even though it was his favorite Green Day song. "I can't fucking _tell_ what it is you want."

"I..." Frank avoided the question, "When are you scheduled to pass?"

"Next Sunday," Gerard huffed, bitter that Frank chose to evade his question. "You know what, Frank? Next week I'll be in 1925," it was when and where he'd agreed to meet Hayley and Bert the following week, so he figured it was the best place and time to schedule an impromptu meeting. "If you figure out what the hell it is you want, meet me there. If not, just _let me die already."_

"Gerard," Frank shook his head, pursing his lips like he was trying to stop them from trembling. 

"I'm logging off," Gerard stated coldly, even though it took great effort to hide how he felt. "See you next week, Frank." He then added, "Or not."

Gerard soon woke up in his hospital room, feeling strangely empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"No time to search the world around, 'cause you know where I"ll be found when I come around!" - Green Day, When I Come Around_  
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> Btw... not to pressure you or anything... but you should consider reading my completed story [Bad Romance.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25136302) I promise it's... dare I say... good? And... dare I ask you to maybe drop a kudos or even a comment if you enjoy it?
> 
> Anyways, WHAT DID YOU GUYS THINK OF THAT AAAAAA!! Short but very important chapter! Should Gerard get uploaded? 
> 
> Stay fabulous,  
> \- Venom  
> Tumblr: [thepoisonpills](https://thepoisonpills.tumblr.com/)


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